


Reunion

by Jezzax_j



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jezzax_j/pseuds/Jezzax_j
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years from the events of the musical, and Christine receives a letter asking to meet at her fathers grave on September 20th.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

Christine,

It has been too long since I have written your name on paper. Yet I think now is the time we reunite and discuss some matters we were once too afraid to think of.

I will be waiting by your father’s grave on September 20th of this year. I hope you will find it in your heart to reconnect with your angel.

E.

Christine read the letter over and over as she made her way through the old cemetery where her father lay to rest. The air was warm for early autumn but Christine could not help but shiver as she thought of what lay ahead of her. It has been almost ten years since she saw the mysterious opera ghost beneath the Opera Populaire. A night she never could remove from her dreams. The image of her broken angel stayed with her every day; on the day of her marriage, the birth of her child. She wondered what life would have been like if things were different. If her Angel of music had never approached her. But no matter how she tried to move on from the past, she could never truly leave it behind her. The letter that landed on her doorstep in early spring couldn’t have been more unexpected, but it was time. She was older, wiser, and she knew that one day she must return to the phantom that terrified so many.

Before she even reached her father’s grave she saw him. He was sitting with his back to her, his body covered by a familiar black cloak. His fedora was sitting on the stone beside him, she could just make out the lines in his hair that held the mask to his face. He was hunched slightly, his posture still grand, but his body looked frailer; the years had not been kind to him since their departure.

She pushed the rusted gate and saw him stiffen and jump. He turned round to look at her. The unscarred side of his face looked even more sallow and sickly, dark bags hung under his eyes and strong wrinkled littered his forehead. His jet black hair was beginning to grey.

Christine had aged herself. Her long curled hair was cut short a long time ago and now was almost always pinned back. Raising a child had taken a toll on her body and her mouth was surrounded by smile lines. Yet she somehow managed to retain the same childish glow she always had in the Opera house.

She took a breath before stepping forward.

“Christine.” He gasped, looking her up and down with such longing eyes.

“Hello,” she replied with a timid and cautious voice.

“I wasn’t sure if you would make it. I’ve been sitting here since dawn.”

“Oh I am so sorry,” she tried to explain, nervous and flustered, “we only arrived in Paris this morning.”

The ‘we’ being herself and Raoul. She did not tell him the exact reason for her return to Paris. They made the journey only several times a year; on the anniversary of her father and for the opening night of the opera season. Paris still held many painful memories for Christine.

Erik stiffened, uncomfortable with the thought of Christine and Raoul. He had never forgiven that foolish boy for taking his little angel away from her.

“It’s fine,” he replied, straightening his jacket and advancing towards her. Christine jumps back at his movements, ever conscious about what he might do to her. The thought of her angel often frightened her over the last ten years. The sight of him before here make her even more nervous. He was short tempered and unpredictable then, caring one moment and horribly cruel the next. She didn’t know how the years had changed him, and she struggled to break down the wall she build to protect herself.

Erik lunged back at this movement, nerves burning throughout his body and panic in his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to forgive him for what he had done. He was shocked that she was even standing before him after all this time. Christine’s eyes were full of fear and confusion as his fingers twitched as his sides, panic stricken words falling from his mouth.

“Right yes, my Christine”, he started pacing, running his head across his hair, his breathing becoming more irregular as the nerves build up.

“I, um, I supposed I should discuss with you why I asked you here.”

She had never seen him like this before. Her Angel was always extremely poised and collected. During her lessons he always spoke with varying levels of precision, and she could not recall a time he mumbled or stuttered.

“Angel?” she asked, stepping towards him, “is everything alright?”

He gasped and turned away from her. Unable to think or speak.

Cautiously she stepped forwards until she was able to place her small hand upon his shoulder. She could feel his body tensing and her touch. She paused for a moment, gently running a thumb across the cool fabric, “Please Angel. Talk to me?”

His breathing began to slow. She placed more pressure onto his back, “Come. It’ll be easier if we sit.” She led him away from her father’s grave, towards a small wooden seat at the edge of the yard. The blossoms had long since fallen and littered the ground with small browning petals.

She watched him mutter to himself as she sat down beside him, angling her body to face his. “Now please angel. Why did I come here? Why after all this time?”

“Because, Christine,” he sighed, “These have been a long ten years. Too long I fear. And there is only so much guilt and anger a monster such as myself can keep inside before it begins to do real damage.”

His hands started shaking. He had barely spoken to another soul in the years after the events of the Opera Populaire, except for the Daroga and on two rare occasions Madame Giry. For years his time was spent in silence, unable to bring himself to write or play. His only muse was taken from him, the only inspiration he had for all his work. But now here she was, sitting before him and his words didn’t seem to make any damn sense.

“Christine I love you. You know that, right?” Her brow furrowed. Those were the last words he said to her before she and Raoul left him for dead underneath the opera house.

“I always have, and always will,” he continued, “even after all this time, I thought you should know that. Each day you have been away from me has been nothing but torture. Those, those years in the Opera House seemed like heaven in comparison to the pain I have been feeling ever since. 

“It seems like what I am saying has come so unexpected, but my Christine I have been wanting to say this since the moment I lost you. You know I love you. So come back with me. Stay with me. Sing for me once more.”

Christine stiffened, unable to process what she was hearing. He actually wanted her to return to his fantasies. The thought of it made her head spin, but she could not deny that some deep part of her wanted to say yes. To take the hand of her angel and run away. To return to the naivety of her childhood where she sang for her tutor and nothing else mattered.

But that time had long since passed. She had a husband now. She had a child. She had responsibilities. There was no way she could live in the romantic fantasies of her youth. Even if she agreed, how long would it be until the angel turned into the Phantom? Until the violence she remembered returned and there would be no Raoul to rescue her.

“Oh my angel,” she starts, “if only it were that simple.”

His heart sank.

“I have a husband, angel. A son. I can’t just leave them. I’m not a child anymore, we can’ simply return to the past and expect things to be the way they were?”

A child? Erik’s breath escaped him. He knew of the Vicomte, but he had heard nothing of a child. He felt so foolish now. For these past years he had been planning her return, to free her from the man who caused him so much pain. But now, doing so would being stealing her away from her son. As cruel as he may have been in the past he was not heartless enough to deny a child something he never had.

He began to fumble with his jacket. Panic overcoming him. He had made a terrible mistake. This meeting never should have happened. He should have left Christine be. A part of him always knew she was content, happy even without her angel.

Before he could stand however, he felt a gentle hand touch his knee. His body trembled as his eyes met Christine. She had a gentle smile on her face, apologetic but full of compassion and care.

“But angel please. For one moment just listen to me,” she began, “What I was going to say, is that I would still like to see you back in my life. I would be lying if I hadn’t been afraid of the thought of you for some time, after what happened. But once Raoul and I left, I spent years trying to figure out what that empty feeling was at the back of my head. You were my teacher and mentor for so long angel, and it took me too long to realise that I couldn’t live without you.

“When I saw your letter I was so afraid; because I’ve held onto the blame of what happened for so long. I didn’t know if you were alive or dead all these years and the guilt of knowing that has been such a burden on me. But knowing you were here, waiting for me all these years made my heart start beating again. So no angel, I will not go back with you. But I would hate to lose you again. So please say we can try and start again. As companions. As friends?”

The word pained him. This was not what he wanted. But then again, when has his life ever gone the way he desired. But Christine seemed genuine, in a way he could have never anticipated. This could be his only chance to have her back into his life. And he wasn’t going to let it pass quickly.

He shifted his body towards hers, taking her hand into his, “Is that something you want Christine? Would you be prepared to let this, beast, back into your life?”

Christine smiled, “It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, angel. I just hadn’t realised it until now.”

“Erik.”

“What?” Christine gave a puzzled expression as the visible side of his face softened.

“It’s occurred to me that I had never told you my name. It is Erik.”

“Erik,” the word rolling off her lips sent shivers up the phantom’s entire body. Christine smiled, “that explains the signature on your letter. All this time I never knew what to think of you as, other than my angel.”

She reached up and placed a hand against his visible cheek. Shock was pulsing through Erik’s entire body as he shut his eyes, half expecting to see the darkness of his lair when he opened them again. Christine’s face was beaming as he softened into her touch.

“Oh Christine.” He smiled at her, something he doesn’t remember doing in a long time, “thank you.”

She stood up to face him, extending her hand out towards him, “Shall we walk? I think we still have a lot to talk about. And it’s such a lovely day.”

Erik paused for a moment, staring at Christine’s outstretched hand, half expecting her to turn and run away. He hadn’t felt such emotions of hope since he first heard Christine sing as a young child. He accepted her hand, standing up to straighten his cloak.

With his fedora atop his head he offered his arm to the woman beside him, his breath skipping as she took it, smiling up at him. He would never be used to human contact, or kindness in any form. But this was the start. His Christine had returned to him and for Christine, she finally had her angel back. Christine did not know how to continue with this relationship from here, but she was prepared to take one day at a time.

She was able to see him in a human light now, rather than the shadows of her mysterious angel. And as she passed her father’s grave once more she felt hopeful, the urge to sing flowing through her. A passion she had not felt with this intensity in almost ten years.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've properly written in well over a year so I'd appreciate any reviews and tips etc. Hope you enjoyed! x


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